


54%

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Dark Humor, Disturbing Themes, Heavy Angst, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:36:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Franklin & Michael kill Trevor, the only problem is that Trevor didn't stay dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	54%

**Author's Note:**

> ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE.
> 
> HAPPY VALENTINES DAY~!

Behind a polymer sheet of double-duty glass Franklin awaited. His wool-blend suit suddenly started to itch around the neck, he loosened the crème-colored tie and pinched open one button on his white dress shirt, draping the charcoal suede blazer over the back of his chair, Franklin took a breath and again resumed to fidget with his cufflinks. Each round-cut diamond was as wide as his pinky finger, the gold clenching the jewel to it’s surface fit tight to the cup like a fist, Franklin checked the time to be twenty minutes to eight, only a while to go and the text of his weekly income from his businesses would do its usual deposit into his account. The hard plastic chair he sat on felt stiff and dirty like the rest of the facility of Los Santos Penitentiary, he had only seen LSP on the inside for several months as a teenager, now the place seemed as if it expanded into a town all its own, running its own underhand economy to the shittier one in the ‘real’ world, but both places having the same commodities in common: sex, drugs, violence, anal lube and too much time for none of the above. 

Out of the blue came a sudden clank, the beep of electronic key-cards unlocking the doors from deeper inside, a shuffle of unsure but light feet, two heavy footsteps accompanying, it sounded as if they were Dragging the person of interest out. Franklin took another breath, his palms starting to tingle and forearms tensing themselves, his back extended parallel to the chair back, he squinted in the swaying shadows, mentally cussing out Los Santos Water and Power for providing the worst ‘natural energy’ options in the non-profitable areas. The only places lit inside the room were the booths at barely twelve-watts, he leaned forward and picked up the receiver on his end and continued to shuffle through the alternation between his shallow breaths and dry gasps, the formless silhouette was then shoved unto the chair, the receiver held up to their face, twitchy white hands which came within visible range of the feeble scant lighting showed skeleton-like arms twisted with bulging veins and printed with black ink. 

“H-hey, man,” Franklin smiled, his cheerless laugh petering out as he heard a pained rasp from the other end, he leaned closer to the glass trying to decipher what was texture and shape from the fathomless bleakness, “How’re you doin’, T?” 

“You’re seriously gonna ask a guy who’s been fucked in the ass by his only friends in the world, gotten burned without having the courtesy of being wheeled into an ER by Said-‘Friends’,” Trevor rasped, he leaned forward also to give Franklin a preview of the half-finished handy-work; Trevor’s eyes were completely overtaken by a thick white film and enlarged blood vessels, the exposed muscle tendons of his face from the left lower half all the way to his adam’s apple was haphazardly ‘healed’ over by skin grafts, part of his mouth moved as he spoke, thick braid-like spans of skin were in stages of healing, he spat out clots of pus and blood as he spoke over the plastic phone held out to his nearly nonexistent ear, “Mike died and never told a soul, but you kid - I’ve got the worst case of cataracts and a super-hypermetabolic eating disorder since my first hit of crystal - thanks to your Michael-converted-Loyalties, I’m a still-thinking vegtable!” 

Franklin nearly fell out of the chair unto his ass hearing Trevor rasp like a man dying of both old age and dehydration, he fought to recover himself, “Man, I didn’t think-” 

“That I wasn’t going to live or that I wasn’t going to die! That I’d forget or that I’d fucking let this shit slide like this morning’s IV drip and gastrointestinal enema regimen! Didn’t you fucking foresee or plan my fucking murder at all, Mister Pussy-Gangster!” Trevor ground his mostly-skin-graft face up to the glass, his mouth stretching wide in anger and voice ringing out in near-gurgling perfection, “Amateurs, both you and Mike! Fucking Amateurs!” 

Franklin drew towards the glass to at least show a type of concern, a bit of kindness, “T, let me-” 

“No! No! You killed me, kid! But, hey-ho-!” Trevor hissed a foamy blood splash at the glass, some of the liquid seeping through his dark gray teeth and dripping into the receiver, the popping bubbles and oozing flow audible to both, a familiar sickening smile spreading across Trevor’s smooth, shapeless face - the fire having scorched away nearly all of his features, his fist pounding away at the booth and side walls, “Surprise, surprise, I won’t see hell until my kidneys give out, my brain has a motherfucker-induced Aneurism, the crystal eats the rest of my organs…I’ve got options, asshole. And I wish, oh, kid, I fucking Wish you weren’t the last face my ugly pug-ass was gonna see before my cremated fucking remains get shipped back to the upper state! Well, balls-be-fucking-damned! Here the fuck you are begging for nothing a rich cock-blow needs!” 

Franklin swallowed his fear, tearing himself away into the times better than the present, he calmed himself, “How are you?” 

“Alive,” Trevor licked his bloody lips, and clicking his teeth several times and again allowing a grin to split his too-pale face in two, “Just eking past dead. Nothing out of the norm.” 

“Your take, T-” Franklin scrambled to make the conversation somehow Better, to take their minds off what Michael and himself had done to their colleague, worst yet was the Knowing of the memory being too fresh, Trevor’s wild shouts all too well-remembered, he hesitated before adding, “-I invested it-” 

“Take it all, fucker. You’ve earned it, cashed in my Sandy Shores hit - killing the baddest fucking dealer for seeing the future in our maybe-legal business ventures,” Trevor leaned forward, the dull orange uniform stained dark red down the front, parts ripped, he nodded his head side to side disinterestedly, “Making the money was fun; one of the best fucking times of my fucking fucked life. Blow the cash, big guy, roll up that forty-mill and choke that green wad like a proper cock-sucker and become a dead nobody.” 

Not the best of times to remember a movie quote from one of Michael’s favorite films, Franklin only had to shake his head, “What’s Vinewood without a pointless, overblown dramatic death that the cameras were too late on filming?” 

“Hello!” Trevor banged the phone on the scratched up glass, motioning up and down to himself as if he could in fact see Franklin through his burned eyes, he growled, “You’re looking at the end result of the anti-climatic death of an quasi-apex celebrity.” 

“How many fuckin times should I apologize for the same shit, T? I’m sorry,” Franklin pleaded, he wished to take back what he did to Trevor, not because he failed in killing him in the first place, but moreover because he did not want the odds to be stacked high; he reached tentatively at the tepid glass, his fingers gliding over the scratched surface at where he Knew he just had to be feeling scarred skin, “You don’t have to forgive me, but I just want you to know how bad I feel about-” 

“ ‘Bad.’ You want to talk to me about feeling ‘bad’, sure, here’s something to fuck your brain to-” Trevor surged up shakily unto his legs, he pressed a hand to the glass and smashed his forehead against the protective surface, Franklin reeled back visibly shocked by the bony right hand sporting partially visible tattoos gnarled by scar tissue and only a forefinger and middle finger, all that remained of the other three were the knuckles and stubs of gnarled skin winding tight about the partially-tanned skin; Trevor roared into the plastic piece, “You see these hands, Frankie-boy? Do you fucking see these fucking Hands!” 

Franklin only made a sound at the back of his throat in recognition, he never knew fear for his own sanity at that moment. 

Trevor’s forehead opened up with a new welt, the skin gaping open and pulsing calm squirts of blood in even intervals, he smeared the blood over his cheek as he blinked blindly up into the warm bulb above them both, “These things’ve seen action in their day. In the prime of my fucking life, they can’t even pull up my own fucking shorts, I doubt my hands can remember how to squeeze a trigger. Maybe tying a knot on a noose is better my speed nowadays than shank-stabbing.” 

“My ass is so useless and stretched out that I’ve been put into fucking adult diapers to hold my shit together,” Trevor calmly whispered into the static, the bulb’s electric buzzing louder than his voice, he suddenly smacked his two-fingered fist into the glass, “Not even the half strength of it is left to give a proper fucking fart! Just this morning all the upper deck was lined up at my front door, and without knocking -heh!- I was bent over and fucked until the cum was filling into my stomach. You ever seen a hundred-year-old three-hundred-and-sixty-pound midget who’s dumb, clubfooted and schizophrenic hump like a fucking Liberty City ape at two in the morning?” 

“Fucking five-year-olds come to visit me just to have their turn!” Trevor continued to Franklin’s complete despair, “The worst part is being filmed by their fucking dads!” 

“Vinewood! Fucking shit-baring tit-busting horse-blowing plastic-shitting motherfucking crap-porno-filming C-list fucking Vinewood!” Trevor’s words seemed as if to shake the room, anger so explosive and sudden that Franklin grit his teeth until his jaws hurt, “Suck my cock and Die, schmuck! Is one fucking visit too much to ask!” 

“Sorry, T, for everything,” Franklin again began inching toward the bloodied glass, the receiver cord tangling and audibly causing crushing noise on Trevor’s end, making the blind man’s head swing side to side, “Visiting would’ve made you feel worse, so Mike and I stayed away-” 

“The first time you tell the truth is to justify your lies, baby cakes,” Trevor quietly breathed into the receiver, Franklin’s chest seized up, “Would you graciously give me a hit of gas for old times sake? And warn me before you set me on fire, that over-the-top-dramatic-poetic-justice bullshit is a meta-actual rip-off. Do it once, it’s classic; do it again, you’re just kidding yourself; do it the third time, now you’re just insulting your victim on the verge of the mentally atrocious.” 

“Tellin’ you the honest truth, man-” Franklin stood at eye level searching Trevor’s smooth-scarred face, his voice dropped to the comforting tone he knew his colleague was appeased by, like a verbal olive branch, “You’re really the one burning me right now, T. I get it. It hurts. It feels better doing it to someone else, too.” 

“I’m just getting warmed up, cock-snot,” Trevor growled low, “Shit don’t feel all that good when you find your money ain’t worth dick with your homie’s blood on the bill, right?” 

“When ain’t you ever wrong?” Franklin huffed, unable to say anything more than to have the full sting of guilt weighed down on him. 

“When was I ever lying, kid?” Trevor stated, calmly and just the bite of hurt adding to Franklin’s self-blame. 

The room went quiet, neither noticed the guards whom walked away moments ago, unable to take more of the horrendous show there lacking of sanity from both parties; Franklin soaked in all he could carry of the shame slapping his self-worth around while Trevor, on the other hand reveled a step higher than he intended to call their meeting something close to ‘Revenge, but Close’. 

“I loved you, Kid! I just fucking Loved you!” Trevor broke down, eyes tearing up and wailing like a wounded dog; he scrubbed away the blood, snot and tears only to roar, “I fucking Cared about you, you sad, lying, motherfucking double-back-stabbing sack of shit! Is that how you treat someone who loves you!?” 

“Trevor-,” Franklin pushed himself closer to his colleague’s shadow of his former self, his throat refused to push out air and sound, but he managed a few words, “If it’s just a little bit, how much, T?”

“Fifty-four percent of me wishes a crane snaps in half and smashes you in the middle of a red light,” Trevor yelled into the blank window pane, lips stretched wide and teeth bared in succession as if to defend himself against Franklin’s apology, “The forty-six percent is pissed I don’t hate you as much as you deserve. Get the fuck outta here, F.” 

Franklin swallowed his fear, his loyalty to the only two men in his life becoming even stronger in the process, “T, I hope-” 

“Move the Fuck On!” Trevor yelled, he turned around and leaned against the bloodied glass, he was tired of hearing both apologies and excuses as if both could make their betrayal disappear, “Trying to make me feel sorry for you, Franklin? Is that fucking It? Does it give you kicks knowing I don’t blame you Completely for your fucking mistake, Huh!” 

“The one’s that I love, T-” Franklin said, pulling up his iFruit phone which had an application designed by Lester to knock out the security cameras within the cellblock, cable feeds fried on cue, “-they get taken care of.”

“They got Me-” Franklin quickly assembled the mini-plasma cutter, he put on his auto-dimming shades and cut away at the glass, he attached two suction cups and pulled the dense window pane away, he leaned up against Trevor’s back and uttered without hesitation, “-and I got their back.” 

Franklin pulled out two combat pistols from his holsters strapped around his shoulders, he locked in two fully loaded magazines and handed one to Trevor’s shaky right hand, “All. That. I. Got.” 

Trevor grabbed Franklin by the tie and shoved him into the nearest wall, gun cocked and pointed at his head, fingers awkwardly deciding whether to blow the kid’s head off or shoot him limb by limb; there was a click in front of Trevor, he heard the sound but nowhere near his head within at least two or three inches, he realized then that the barrel was pointed in front of him but Away at the same time, he grasped to his left with his fingers, his breath paused altogether. 

Franklin had the gun pointed at himself, he said more sure of his words, “I love you, T.” 

Trevor slapped the pistol away and grabbed up Franklin, his arms squeezing the kid tight to himself as he forced his lips hard against Franklin’s, his teeth at first angrily bit and sucked at the thick lips nestled firmly against his own, yet he noticed he was not being denied, he was moreover welcomed, feeling strong arms wrap around his back and a hand held against the back of his head. He tasted wine and freedom, but pulled away just as suddenly. 

“What the Fuck is wrong with you, kid?” Trevor breathed hard against Franklin’s shoulder, slumped against the broad warm body, “Don’t you know you’re supposed to aim at the Other guy?” 

“C’mon, Uncle Trevor,” Franklin said, the two parting and setting C4 charges to the steel door, “Lester’s got the surveillance blacked out and Mike’s got our ride.” 

After the doors were blown down and Trevor charged out with Franklin, he knew the bond he had with both men would only strengthen, solidify and ultimately evolve into the psychotic love Trevor had for both Franklin and Michael, but before they killed each other out of blatant objection, he was sure they would never waste a bullet on something as stupid as a lover’s spat. 

No matter who pulled the trigger first.

**Author's Note:**

> a quick ficlet to clear the stress of ever-lengthening smut.  
> Gyahhh- on feb 14?!?!?!


End file.
